


flirting with disaster

by firebrands



Category: Marvel Ultimate Universe, Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bounty Hunters, Bad Flirting, Bounty Hunters, Fluff, Gun Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25278016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firebrands/pseuds/firebrands
Summary: Steve accepts a contract on Tony Stark.“Finally they sent a pretty one to come after me,” Stark manages to say, before breaking into a hacking cough. “Just my luck,” he adds, his voice rough.*fill for mystony bingoprompt: bounty hunter authank you kait for the beta read!!
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 215
Collections: Captain America/Iron Man Bingo





	flirting with disaster

It’s the third safe house he’s breaking into in a week, so when Steve kicks down the door, he nearly falters with surprise to find the place actually occupied.

Stark is prone on the floor, pale and covering his chest.

“Finally they sent a pretty one to come after me,” he manages to say, before breaking into a hacking cough. “Just my luck,” he adds, his voice rough.

Steve keeps his gun up and crosses the room slowly, his eyes darting from Stark’s face to where his bloody hand is pressed against his flesh. Once he’s close enough, Steve finally does falter when he sees the gaping hole Stark is trying to cover up.

“What in the hell—“

Steve reaches out instinctively to see the damage—no matter how many years of training he has, no matter how much bad he knows Stark has done, it’s still second nature for him to help, rather than hurt.

The move proves to be his undoing. In a flash, Stark pulls out a knife from behind him and pushes it against Steve’s neck, just beneath his Adam's apple. Steve’s hands fly up to his sides, his gun clattering to the floor.

“Don’t,” he says, threatening. He pushes the knife closer, just hard enough that Steve feels the first pinprick of pain.

“Let me help you,” Steve says, frowning down at him.

“And then what? You haul me off to Stane?” Stark barks out a laugh. “It’d be a pity, but I’d kill you first.”

Steve takes a step back, and Stark sinks back on the floor, catching his breath.

Steve holds one hand up. “I’m going to get some bandages from my bag,” he says.

“Don’t.”

“I need you alive.”

“So leave.”

“I can’t do that.”

Stark tilts his head and assesses Steve. “Of all the goons Obidiah’s sent after me, you’re certainly the stupidest.”

Steve opens his mouth to retort, but he feels a pain in his leg, small enough to feel like a dart, and the world goes black.

* * *

Another night, another safehouse, except Steve’s fears are confirmed and Stane’s sent someone else. After his first failure, he knew better than to hope that Stane would leave him to it.

Steve watches the man enter the warehouse, keeps him in sight through the scope of his rifle. The man stops by a window, inspecting something.

Steve takes a deep breath, and pulls the trigger.

The man crumples to the floor, and Steve doesn’t waste a second locating Stark, who pops his head over some crates to inspect what happened.

Steve’s about to pack up, make a dash down the building to catch Stark before he makes his exit, but Stark’s gaze locks on his. He smirks at Steve, then winks.

Steve’s throat feels tight, and he chalks it up to the strange feeling of being caught. He slings the gun over his shoulder and runs down the stairs. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and by the time he gets to the ground floor, Stark’s car is zooming out of the compound. Steve swears and slams his fist into the doorframe in frustration.

He checks his phone. There’s one message from an unregistered number.

_**if i didnt know any better id think u were on my side** _

Steve swears again, flexing his hand before typing a response.

_**His fault for getting in the way. You’re mine.** _

Steve stares down at his phone, then adds:

**_How’d you get this number?_ **

Steve begins walking back to his own car, stopping only when his phone beeps.

_**u HAVE read my file, right??** _

Steve decides not to respond--he doesn’t want Stark to think he can just banter with him. After all, Steve still has to fulfill the contract.

* * *

Steve wakes up with a jolt. He sits up slowly, listening for what could’ve woken him up, but he already has a feeling—someone’s in his apartment. He’s immediately alert and sets aside the irritation of being woken up from a pleasant dream. He’s been having more of those, recently, and while they were mostly pleasurable, Steve still felt a little confused by the dreams--and the man who featured most prominently in them.

Steve slips his gun out from his bedside table, throws open his curtains to give him more light. He can hear the light steps of whoever has broken in, and he’s pretty sure this is his moment of reckoning—a former mark’s family member, someone from Stane’s gang finally tired of waiting and tying up a loose end, hell, it could be Tony Stark himself except Steve’s pretty sure he couldn’t be stealthy if his life depended on it. If it were Stark, he’d probably have just hacked into Steve’s microwave and made it explode.

The doorknob to Steve’s bedroom turns slowly, and Steve takes aim from behind his bed. It’s as fortified a position as any, right now, and he has the advantage.

His breaths are even as the door opens. For a split second, his eyes meet that of his attacker; he was right, it was someone from Stane’s crew, and Steve barely raises his gun and then the window behind him explodes with force. The man’s head tips back, a bullet lodging itself right in between his eyebrows.

Steve dives under his windowpane, looking over the window to see where the shot came from.

On his bed, his phone buzzes. Steve crawls over and takes the call.

“Hello?”

“Guess we’re even.”

“ _Stark_?” Steve shouts into the receiver.

The line goes quiet and Steve looks over the window.

Just across the street, he sees a vague outline of a man holding up a rifle. With his free hand, he waves and throws up a peace sign.

“See you around, darling.”

Steve’s happy for the relative darkness and the distance between them; that way, Stark doesn’t get to see the blush on his cheeks at the use of the pet name.

“Wait—!”

The line goes dead, and Steve slumps against the wall, the adrenaline seeping out of him. He sighs and types out a message.

_**Thanks. But I’m not going to go easy on you next time I find you** _

Steve stands up, shakes broken glass off his clothes, and gets to cleaning up.

His phone buzzes with Stark’s response.

_**ofc not. wheres the fun in that? ;)** _

* * *

* * *

It’s been months of their cat and mouse game, so when Steve walks into another anonymous, rundown safe house, he’s not surprised to find Stark sitting on a chair by the dining table, a glass of wine half-full in front of him.

“Took you long enough.”

Steve sighs, sets his gun down by the small table just by the door where normal people would leave their keys. He walks towards Stark and sits down on the seat adjacent to him. If he wanted to, he could move his knee a little so it would brush against Stark’s, but he won’t.

Not yet.

“I didn’t know you were waiting.”

Stark smirks and pours Steve a drink.

“So, what now?”

Steve takes a sip.

Under the table, Stark’s knee rests against his.

Steve shrugs in response. The sudden truce between them feels fearless, both of them exuding the strange relief of finally speaking without the threat of violence.

Stane is dead; the contract is worthless. In the time between hearing the news and the drive to the last known location of Stark, Steve had made peace with the fact that Stark could still take his revenge after all the months of chasing and mis-aimed shots, shooting as if only to strike fear. For the first time in his life, he’s glad to be proven wrong.

Steve curls his lips up at the touch and opens his palm on the table.

Stark looks down at it, his own smirk softening before he lays his hand on top of Steve’s.

“You always knew where to find me,” he says. His gaze stays on their hands, their fingers only loosely interlocked.

Steve’s chest tightens. Stark— _Tony_ , is holding his hand. He wants more, but doesn’t know where to begin.

“You were terrible at hiding.” Steve tightens his grip on Tony’s hand, and Tony looks up.

“Maybe I just wanted to be found.”

Steve sucks in a breath, surprised. “Is that so?”

Tony leans closer, and Steve mirrors the movement until they’re only inches apart. He moves his other hand and cups Tony’s cheek.

“Only because it was you that was looking,” Tony admits, looking down at Steve’s lips then back up at him.

Steve huffs out a laugh, then tips his forehead to rest against Tony’s.

“Then I’m glad I found you,” he says.

Tony reaches up, rests his hand on the base of Steve’s skull, and pulls him into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> i guess i'm in ults hell???
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](https://firebrands.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/firebrandss)!


End file.
